The Village Without Rain

Three weeks after leaving the ruins, Ren and Mira reached a farming village called Aldern. No rain had fallen there for three months. The fields were brown, and the well was almost empty.

At the edge of the village stood a stone tower, taller than any house. Old marks covered its base. An elder named Toma stood in front of it with a hammer in his hand. “We are going to break this tower today,” he said.

“Why?” Mira asked. “The old stories say a tower like this can control the sky,” Toma answered. “Since it woke up last spring, we have had no rain. Break the tower, and the rain will return.”

Ren walked closer and read the marks near the base: THIS SYSTEM PREVENTS... Moss covered the rest of the sentence. “It prevents the rain,” he said quickly. “Toma may be right.”

Mira frowned. “You read three words and decided the rest,” she said. “Clear the moss before you decide anything.” Ren felt his face grow warm. He had wanted to agree with Toma without checking the whole sentence.

Ren and Mira scraped the moss away together. New words appeared: THIS SYSTEM PREVENTS THE RED STORM. Ren read it twice, then a third time. “It is not about rain,” he admitted. “It stops something called a red storm.”

Toma laughed without joy. “I have never seen a red storm,” he said. “I have seen three months without rain. A dry village is worse than an old story.” He raised his hammer again.

At that moment, the western sky turned a dull red. The color was not a sunset; it moved like smoke, low and slow above the hills. A cold wind pushed through the village, and somewhere a dog began to bark.

Mira did not wait for Ren to translate the sky. “Stop,” she told Toma. “Whatever that red storm is, it may be worse than losing your crops. Give us three days before you decide.” Toma lowered his hammer slowly.

A quiet man named Feld had watched from the back of the crowd. He said nothing about the tower. Instead, he looked at Ren with tired eyes and said only, “You read old words. Come to my house before you leave.”

That night, the red cloud faded before it reached the village. The tower had not moved, and no rain had fallen either. But Toma no longer spoke of breaking it. “Three days,” he repeated, and went inside.